Scary Campfire Stories Field Pack: Tales for Kids, Teens & Adults

Deep in the old timberlands, back before paved highways or campsite numbers, lived a man who loved gold more than anything else on earth. He heard tell of an abandoned pioneer cemetery on the ridge where an old prospector had been laid to rest with a solid arm of pure, polished gold.

Whisper softly One stormy midnight, when lightning cracked over the pine canopy and the rain lashed down like gravel, the greedy man hiked up the slippery trail with a shovel in hand.

He crept past the mossy headstones until he found the grave. With trembling hands, he dug into the cold mud, took the golden arm, tucked it deep beneath his heavy wool coat, and hurried back to his cabin.

Lower voice to a whisper He bolted every latch on the door. He shuttered the heavy wooden windows. He slid into bed and pulled the thick patchwork quilt all the way up to his chin. Outside, the wind howled through the stovepipe: *Wwwwhhhoooo... wwwwhhhoooo...*

Pause 3 seconds Then, far down the muddy trail, he heard slow, heavy footsteps. *Squish... clack. Squish... clack.*

The footsteps came up his porch steps: *Creak... creak... creak.*

The cabin door drifted open with a long, rusty squeal: *Errrrrkkkk.*

Whisper very slowly A hollow, cold voice echoed from the dark hallway: *"Where... is... my... golden... arm?"*

The greedy man hid trembling beneath the blanket, clutching the golden arm to his chest. The footsteps drew closer and closer to the foot of his bed: *Step... step... step.*

The quilt slowly slid down. A cold breeze touched the man's face. The ghostly voice whispered right beside his ear: *"Who stole my golden arm?"*

Pause 2 seconds The man squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered, "I don't know!"

Jump-scare clap! "YOU DID!"